A Cuffed Past
by Gunstalk
Summary: The Guardians find themselves inside of a rather small room with unexpected surprises lurking behind the door and walls. With time to kill, they find out about their abrupt kidnapping and their curiosities eventually lead them to discover exactly what Jack Frost has been keeping a secret between them this whole time. Memories!Fic. Chaptered.
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or any of its characters.

Enjoy.

**Chapter One**:

He doesn't remember resting inside of this small four walled room—Jack Frost is absolutely sure that the other Guardians were also not with him, considering he had fallen into an undisturbed sleep in the middle of a snow bank after losing his ability to continue going through Burgess. But there's no sight of any freshly placed snow, no scent of clear air and he's completely dry, covered in a red cotton blanket.

He bets they're being held captive. It does smell like rotten flesh and if Jack's hearing isn't too screwed, he's sure he can hear the rattle of metal coming from somewhere near.

The tip of Bunnymund's nose twitches and he lets out a groan, albeit stifled due to his mouth being pressed against his furry arm. Jack can see North and Tooth's bodies lying on the rock hard cement ground—he wonders if they can feel their backs cracking as they wiggle into comfortable positions—and Sandy, ever the gentle Guardian, is knocked out peacefully in the corner.

Crust falls out of the crevices of Jack's eyes when he wipes them sleepily, mumbling incoherent words under his breath. With a sigh, he peers at the door handle behind him, twisting his neck to get a good view, and contemplates if he should get up and look around. In the end, he does, and his feet drift further with slow pace as he reaches for the door. It opens teasingly.

And just like that, Jack loses the capability to differentiate reality with other worldly things. When all he hears is black, all he sees is thumps, all he feels is the atoms in the air and all he knows is nothing, Jack slams the door shut and falls back. He loses his balance, tripping on the wet flooring due to complete befuddlement and surprise. Never before has the winter spirit experienced the feelings of absolute _emptiness_ while staring into water.

Then he remembers. He _has—_once before. 300 years ago.

His death had been a messy one. Despite the lack of blood, lungs had been filled with a never ending supply of water, the desperate gasps for oxygen merely spreading bubbles out into the deep, ice cold lake. His ears didn't hear anymore; all sounds turned into a quiet buzzing from his own brain working and failing in an attempt to stay alive and his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. To put it simply, he felt numb. All throughout his fingertips, his toes, his nose, even his eyeballs as he clenched them tightly. Jackson Overland was _terrified_.

But it ended just as quickly as he'd slipped under the ice—the Man in the Moon is his savior. He revived him for the sake of protecting the world's children and nature from evil forces such as Pitch, and Jack intends to carry out that exact mission as long as he stands on Earth's surface.

That means lots coming from an immortal.

Jack's fingers curl around the blanket draped on him, swallowing heavily as his veins pulse within the seconds and the distending of his heart. He crawls into a ball on the floor, trying to keep himself warm. Drawn out mutters rise in the silence and the spirit's head whips around to see Bunnymund and the rest of the Guardians waking up, dopey smiles consistent on their faces. As soon as they rub their closed eyelids, they survey the room, wondering exactly where they are. But when they have a good, long glance at the Guardian of fun, they immediately go pale.

"Jack?" Tooth asks, motherly worry evident on her face. She brings her fingers to her mouth, widening her eyes as her feathers ruffle.

Bunnymund looks utterly confused. "Mate, your hair's turning brown."

Jack reaches to touch his hair, feeling the shaggy strands coarse through his fingers whilst stretching them further into his point of view. His eyes show dubiety as he glances at the other Guardians unsurely.

"Dat was Jack's hair before he vas Jack Frost," North comments with a smile.

"Yeah, but what's going on?" the sprite questions, drained of most of his energy by now. "Why isn't it _staying_ white?"

"Wait a second," Bunnymund interrupts, "are you telling me Frostbite here's reverting back into a human?"

"No. But immortal hair will change if memories played with."

The Pooka leans his head in, eyes narrowing with doubt. He tries to ignore the harsh whispering coming from behind him and the bangs of bodies crashing into walls, but gets irked enough that he starts tapping his foot.

(Tooth is flying around the room, angrily muttering things while Sandy attempts to knock her out with his dream sand. "If anybody so much as messes with Jack I will have their head on a silver platter!")

"So you're saying some mongrels are messin' with Frostbite's mind?"

"I have made point clear," North says with enthusiasm, smiling despite the seriousness of the situation.

"That still doesn't answer how," Jack intervenes harshly, running his hands through his hair. He looks at his palm as if expecting paint to be staining his skin. "I mean, Pitch is locked away and I've only visited him _once _out of guilt so it's not like _he_ has access to anything." The winter spirit looks into each of the other Guardian's eyes, hoping his assumptions are true. "_Right_? Am I right?"

Waving it off, North says, "Yes, Pitch is long gone. But dat does not mean other spirits be . . . _nice_ to Jack Frost."

Noticing the sudden pause in North's statement, Bunnymund can't help but feel even more curious. "Other spirits? How many are there? _Frostbite's_ the end of the line!"

"Who would answer to a talking Kangaroo?" the Guardian of fun asks sarcastically, deciding to rest his back against the wall.

He makes a face when it burns his skin, the steam rising off his fingertip. This goes unbeknownst to Bunnymund as he glares at Jack with heated eyes.

"What did you call me?"

As Jack glares back, North steps in with an irritated expression. "No jibber jabber, be _good_ Guardians."

Bunnymund mutters something under his breath, rolling his eyes at the look he's given. Sandy and Tooth calm down, having run out of breath along with their sore bodies, and Tooth flies over to Jack concernedly. She slaps his cheek lightly when she notices the food stuck in his teeth.

For the Tooth Fairy, she is quite the character.

Sandy comes in between all of the Guardians and forms a question mark above his head, motioning around himself. He clearly wants to know what they're all going to be doing about their current predicament, and figure out the reason behind being here. But right when North gives him a reassuring look, Jack yelps, having burned himself on the wall by accident again.

"The wall's hot," he says, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Exaggeration gets you nowhere, mate."

"No. I mean, really, _really _hot."

"I have swell ears, seeing as I heard you the first time—"

Jack rolls his eyes, smiling falsely at the accusation. "It almost burnt the tip of my finger off."

Tooth is nodding enthusiastically, having accidentally set one of her feathers on fire by touching the wall. "He's telling the truth."

"See!"

Butting his nose in, North brightens. "I have idea."

He pushes on the wall using all of his strength. His teeth grind together as he uses enough force for it to push in, showing a blinding passageway as the wall concaves and then disappears in a rush of dust. Behind it shows a faded silhouette, black being the obvious color of the choice of outfit—the Guardians have to blink rapidly and squint for the radiating light to not be so wicked to their vision until it begins to lessen.

Bunnymund looks at the figure and embodiment of Christmas with a questioning glance (and through squinted eyes). "Where'd ya learn to have such senses, mate?"

North wiggles his eyebrows. "It's all in belly."

Out from the glaring light comes a familiar boy dressed in black armor with a staff completely different from Jack's—it has a moonbeam on the end attached to a metal base while Jack's is obviously a wooden stick back from the 1700's—and the Guardians, with the exception of the youngest companion, immediately perk up in this mystery person's presence.

Nightlight: Once the bodyguard of the Man in the Moon, now the protector of light and a reason for evil disappearing throughout the world's history. Also the entire package of light radiating from a single lanky body that holds such power and strength.

Jack is fascinated even without others informing him of these facts—for some reason he just knows them. Every neuron and brain cell work together to form the perfect depiction of Nightlight's life, the image glowing in the winter spirit's jumbled mind. He stops dead in his thoughts, gaping at the other boy with awe.

"This is so _cool_."

Bunnymund kicks him in the shin, silently telling him to keep quiet.

Gesturing behind himself, Nightlight invites all of them inside with haste. The Guardians topple in, now being able to see clearly what with the bright light having dimmed to a dark atmosphere, but the steaming hot air gives them a struggle to breathe. Nightlight's glowing body creates a vibrant aroma of dancing flames and with every flicker, Jack feels like he's soaring closer to the moon.

The narrow but curved path that they take leads them to a three walled area, each wall made from dark blue rock. A gloomy feeling surrounds each Guardian as they take notice of the dug up pit placed neatly in the middle of the room. It is inevitably bubbling, blue fire sparking out of the steaming pit. But on the top, there, inside of the hole, are a multitude of shying away white fragrances—a sign of life being taken from the teeth which store memories inside of them like safes. A sign that Tooth's memory boxes and their containings have been stolen and brewed like stew.

And in the far corner, golden eyes flash.

"Well look who we have here," comes the mirthful voice, accented with snide.

Jack's eyes widen while Tooth and Bunnymund look like they'd be ready to fight if they were abruptly attacked. The Tooth Fairy's expression is full of dripping acid as her saucer like eyes dig into Pitch's slithering torso. He moves around crossly and each of the Guardians expect to soon hear the hissing of a snake if the Nightmare King continues to crawl around like said animal.

"What is _he _doing here?" Bunnymund asks defensively.

"I thought we took care of him?" The winter spirit's eyebrows furrow as he directs the question to Nightlight, to which he receives no answer.

Sandy huffs, creating images of violence with his sand—Bunnymund quickly covers Jack's eyes, but the sprite shoves his companion off with a scowl and extreme effort; the rabbit lands on his butt with an angry narrow of his eyes.

North merely glares, lips a thin line.

When Tooth finally speaks, she belts out a long, furious rant: "How do you expect me to _live _knowing the Bogeyman is free to hurt all those poor, _poor_ children around the world? And why hasn't anybody done anything to _fix_ this? Where is the Man in the Moon when you need him?" She grips her face hopelessly. "I _told _Baby Tooth to watch the memory boxes, too, and with the slightest turn of her back, everything has disappeared! Childhood memories existed in those boxes dated all the way past Jack's timeline in the 18th century!"

Pitch rolls his shining eyes at her, the action causing Nightlight to burn brighter with irritation.

"Poor girl," he mocks, "losing her entire pride and joy."

Jack's staff rises as he heaves angrily, but can't seem to find the right words to shout at the King in the shadows before him. The other Guardians look to Nightlight for some explaining of their current situation.

The air around them is sweltering hot that their skin drips sweat, the white memories diving in and out of the pit while spouting out sounds of happiness and sadness, anger and madness.

The firefly like boy smiles reassuringly, clearing his throat shyly. He talks with a soft voice, "Normally, I do not speak. Only do I ever on certain occasions. In your time of need, I shall assist you in every way possible." The Guardians' expressions of shock stay firm. They never expected him to use speech as his form of communication—he usually used drawings. "The hole over there contains melted teeth as one of you already know." He nods to Tooth, keeping his eyes focused on Pitch. "This is because they were stolen in a rush of black sand and they dissolved in thin air. Every lost memory finds itself here in the pit until they can be returned to their, or its, correct box."

North strokes his beard thoughtfully. "And Man in Moon sent you to us?"

"Yes."

"So whose is it?" Bunnymund questions with genuine curiosity. His friends are taking in the new information like vacuums, but they still glance at him when he speaks up.

Nightlight tilts his head.

Sighing, he clarifies, "The memory box. Whose is in there right now?"

With a sharp blink, Pitch seethes, "_Jackson Overland_."


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or any of its characters.

It's my second time writing this because I wanted to make it _superb_, which it probably is not.

Enjoy.

**Chapter Two**:

Bunnymund takes a step back in thought. If the Guardians—including himself, of course—are here for the particular reason that is lost memories, why on all of Earth does the name Jackson Overland sound completely unfamiliar, and what does he, a simple human, have to do with any of the spirits? How is Jackson Overland involved with _them_, the Guardians?

The moonbeam on the end of Nightlight's staff blurs each of their visions, but captivates the youngest Guardian in a way not even The Man in the Moon can compete with. Blue eyes trail along the rocky gravel, all the way until the beam illuminates a light straight over the memorial pit. This is when Nightlight stops, ushers Jack further to the precise location, and waits as he, Pitch, and the rest of the Guardians watch.

Innocently watch.

Large shines of the moonbeam display themselves through spurts of dimming and brightening flicks, the pit glowing with warning at the threatening presence, but only Jack can see through the brightness. Fantastically enough, his eye sockets are still intact as his friends cover their own eyes with their different sized hands.

From within the hole, the light summons the fragrances into the air. They float until they form the face of a little boy with wide, sparkling eyes and a grin full of crystal jewels.

"_Woah_ . . ." Jack breathes out in enrapture. He gazes at Nightlight. "Is that . . . ?"

The boy blinks gently, searching Jack's eyes and sees knowledge burning in them. "Yes," he tells him, smiling, "you are correct."

Jack points at the fire emitting pit confusedly, beginning to ask a question, "Why did you—" But he's interrupted by a whooshing sound as the light surrounds the pit only and leaves the previous brightness it adorned. The Guardians drop their numb arms which fall to their sides with relief, and Nightlight turns away, choosing not to answer the winter spirit.

Pitch smirks.

A gust of fresh, cold wind circulates around all of them and Sandy, North, Tooth and Bunnymund hold in their gasps as it knocks them off of their feet harshly. On the opposite end, Jack likes it—he is breathing it all in. Some air envelopes in and throughout the crannies of Jack's fingertips, he himself lifting his hands closer to the wind source with an expression of pleasure on his face. The snow colored fragrances slip through Jack's hair with ease and the other Guardians notice that his hair turns a darker than before chocolate shade. Furthermore, his eyes change from clear lakes to match his hair.

Never before did Jack Frost think he would get his hair dyed _so much_.

He saunters towards a nearby puddle and looks in to see clear water and himself . . . his _reflection_ staring back at him. But it doesn't look like him. It looks similar but different to Jack Frost and instead resembles Jackson Overland; and that scares him to the core, because he knows what this means. He's merely waiting for confirmation to which he is sure he'll decline.

No one's looking into his past. They can't and he won't let them, because they'll look at him differently.

The winter spirit gives a disbelieving shake of his head, not knowing what to think about the sudden change. He can still feel the shocks which created the aftermath of his hair coloring and they're like pricks of needles piercing through his skull. It's rapid, wicked, pulsing and excruciatingly painful. For a second, he believes he can feel his head cracking and collapsing into ash on the rocky canvas below him.

Yellow eyes don't leave him, either, as he scratches his face and pulls on his hair. They take in every moment that Jack does this, and take in the scene of an absolutely ruffled, ludicrous appearance and exterior of the youngest Guardian.

Pitch goes to talk, but Nightlight shoots a blast of hot dust at him, zipping his mouth shut.

"For now your two cents is irrelevant, Bogeyman," he says coldly.

Tooth stares as the essence disappears and returns back to the memorial pit. Lastly, her eyes land on Jack and all that he carries—he's scowling, so she flies over to him.

"Jack?" she asks, looking concerned.

He glances at her, seeming slightly out of it. He tries to give her a smile, but he can feel eyes still following his every movement and this causes him to fumble a bit with his sweater sleeves. "I'm fine, Tooth."

She frowns. "Don't lie to me, Jack, I can tell something's wrong."

The spirit laughs weakly, mumbling just loud enough for her to hear, "I'm not. I don't like to lie."

Little does she know that he just lied.

Deciding she isn't going to get anywhere, the Tooth Fairy nods hesitantly and floats away, only looking back once to check and see if she really should leave him by himself. He just smiles when she does.

The Guardians huddle up, with the exception of one, around Nightlight. They look determined and ready for some more answers to their thoughts, and the armored boy nods his assent politely, swallowing and readying himself for a huge amount of speaking.

North is the first one to say something aloud. "So vat exactly is going on?"

"And who is Jackson Overland?" Bunnymund questions with a little curious crinkle of his nose. "Another ankle biter to add to the pack?"

Sandy scratches his head, nodding and forming a question mark above his head in agreement.

Nightlight holds up his hand. "One at a time, please."

The Guardians look at each other, all of their faces showing the same emotion. The playful twinkle in Nightlight's eye is certainly there, but they don't seem to catch it before he's going off on a long, but soft due to his quieter than usual voice, explanation.

"The Man in the Moon called on me to aid him in his duty with Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, because he reported about an absence of Toothiana's memory box which belongs to, as you know, Jackson Overland. He told me that I must find Pitch and receive the Guardians, and I evidently did as he asked by opening a portal of three dimensional walls; each wall can be activated by simply pushing on it and the path shall be revealed to you. Any questions so far?" Everyone looks at one another but don't say anything, so he takes that as a cue to continue. "I happened to find the Bogeyman here by coincidence, but it was a lucky coincidence since it makes my work easier. Now, the only way that dissolved teeth can regain their lives is by getting the owner in the flesh and opening a pathway to their memories."

"But what if the owner is dead?" Tooth asks. "And how are we connected to him?"

"Yeah, mate, and there's a problem. We don't have the bloody kid and the last name Overland has been outdated for centuries."

Nightlight raises a mischievous eyebrow, walking over to Jack who's sitting on a rock, tossing pebbles into the pond in front of him. He drags him towards the rest of the Guardians and makes him stand up tall so they can clearly see him. Jack's eyes are wide and befuddled and he looks as conflicted as ever, but unsure of what he should do, so Nightlight gestures towards him.

The Guardians get the clue.

"Wait," Bunnymund goes, but no one stops to listen to him as they gape, so he belts out, "Crikey, don't leave a Pooka hanging!"

With that, all of their heads whip to the rabbit and he stands firm.

"So, all this time Frostbite's been the ankle biter?"

Jack glares, hiding his anxiety with being peeved. "Hey! I'm not a _child_."

"Compared to us you are, mate." Tooth makes her way over to Bunnymund and slaps him upside the head. "_Ow_! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"This is serious, so you two don't need to be bickering," she glares, crossing her arms.

Bunnymund knows her. She thinks she's being tough, dominant or whatever you want to consider it, but she's not. She looks like she's overcompensating, what with the pursed lips and heavy held jaw line; her feathers _never _shake like they are doing now.

He snickers, but composes himself with an apology when she narrows her eyes like a hawk again, because sometimes—_sometimes—_her glares _can_ be frightening and full of vexation.

North steps in, starting up another topic of conversation. "Pitch must be here. Why?"

"I want him to witness the life of Jack and maybe he will possibly feel bad about trying to _destroy his memories_," the boy answers heatedly with a rise in the volume of his tone, gazing at the figure which is now hiding back inside of the shadows. All there is left to the eye is a multitude of manipulated shadow creatures perking and soaring and riding in the middle of nonexistence, the signature 'appeal' of Pitch Black being there. For once, he's not underneath children's beds.

The Guardians all glare at him, like their eyes are guns and all they have to do to set them off are to blink. Jack is the only one who is trying not to let the King's golden eyes send shivers down his spine.

"Coward," Bunnymund mumbles under his breath. His eyes are wildfire, hot and spreading in insane amounts.

Sandy hits his curled fist with his palm, looking irritated.

With a tap of his staff on the ground that makes an echo of a din, Nightlight begins walking towards the memorial pit and shoots one look behind himself at the Guardians, telling them to follow him. They do, and out of the corner of his eye, the firefly like boy watches the Bogeyman play with the shadows, whispering unparticular nothings to them with insincerity, and he gives the King a knowing look.

Pitch's eyes are diverted, decidedly not looking at the ex-Man in the Moon counterpart, but Nightlight knows he can see him looking at him. He's just being unwilling.

When Bunnymund and Tooth reach the pit, they stare into it with complete surprise. Sandy, North and Jack stare at it with familiar emotions circling and mixing throughout their eyes thorough and thorough. They're peering at the absolute—the entire embodiment of someone's past life—and inside the white fragrances are twisting and churning like butter, giving small jerks that switch to new vivid pictures, resembling a film being cut into sections. It's the timeline of human recollection, a playback of troubles, mistakes and forevermore.

But a lot of mistakes.

"Bogeyman," Nightlight calls, loud and uncaring, and said man whips his head to look at the boy. "Come join the Guardians and me."

He doesn't move. "Tough luck."

"_Now_, Pitch."

Chuckling, the Nightmare King slams his palm against the side of the cave wall, creating a sound of ruckus. It startles Tooth and Bunnymund, who were previously captivated by the moving filmography behind them.

"I'm afraid I'm coming," Pitch says mockingly, trudging to where they are. Sandy glares at him.

Clearing his throat, Nightlight speaks up. "Now that we are moving on, I would like to stress the importance of safety when we choose it is time for each of us to jump together."

Bunnymund's eyes widen like orbits. "Jump as in a hop or a leap?"

"Yes."

Tooth giggles girlishly, looking excited. Her shoulders go from side to side as her body swerves and her eyes are wide—like Bunnymund's, but for another reason—in a dramatic manner, showing childish wonder.

"Wow!"

Bunnymund looks like he's going to be sick. "That's a hellish hole, mate!"

Jack can't help but give a teasing smirk. "You're a Kangaroo! You jump around all day, what's so different about now?"

"I didn't know icicles had _big mouths_—"

"Bunny!" Tooth growls.

"_What_?"

"Stick to topic," North says, barging into the conversation. He shows annoyance on his face with clear obviousness; the only way it can be more obvious is if he tapes a piece of paper to his forehead which says 'Annoyed'.

While Jack and Bunnymund give each other death glares, Nightlight finishes talking.

"It is not going to be a hard fall and in fact, I assure you all that none of you will have any complaints afterwards. Once you jump, you are, in other words, soaring through memories. When we are together, scenes will change like underwear does every day and no walking _or_ flying is involved." He winks at Tooth. "But unless everyone is holding onto one another, someone or some of you might end up in another date of Jackson's life."

Jack looks reluctant, giving a false smile. "Do we have to go through with this? I mean, can't I go in alone or something?"

"Why would you want to go 'lone, Jack?" North questions with bewilderment.

He sighs, scratching his head with a short quirk of his eyebrows. "Some things are meant to be kept a secret."

"You know _our _pasts, Frostbite, so it's only fair we know yours too."

Nightlight pats Jack's shoulder comfortingly. "We are far from judgemental."

Tooth smiles. "Yeah, we're your friends, Jack!"

Despite his rapid heart, despite the pulsing of his veins and the articulate sound of his brain buzzing in his ears that reminds him so much of an unforgettable death he's experienced, Jack lets out a tense, drawled breath and finds himself feeling less than anxious; he's merely worried. But with the genuine expressions on the other Guardians' faces and on Nightlight's, he can't help but believe them. Despite it all.

He tells himself to ignore the scorn in Pitch's eyes, but he talks before his brain can tell him 'stop!'

"Why did you do it?"

The Bogeyman looks down on him, smiling with taunt. Jack's avoiding his eyes, not feeling confident enough to look into them; he's too vulnerable.

"I was _bored_."

And Jack realizes this isn't the truth. Pitch Black had wanted Jack Frost to ache for defeating him, no matter the continuous guilt having flashed in Jack's eyes when he'd visited the King—he knows the feelings of loneliness and they're not pleasant. Pitch wanted heartache and worst of all, for Jack to fear him.

The winter spirit glances back at Nightlight, fire flaming in his eyes enveloped with a daring attitude and he nods his affirmation.

"Screw it."

Nightlight assembles them all together with a respectful smile. They grab onto each other's arms and hands, golden eyes flashing sympathy in the far corner of Nightlight's eyes; they show the emotion when he stares into the essences of Jackson Overland's memories right before they make a dive for it.

And then they jump into the pit.


End file.
